


Omne Trium Perfectum

by the_aesthetic_of_happiness



Category: Ever After High, NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ever After High, Angst, Archery, Crushes, Established Lee Jeno/Na Jaemin, Ever After High AU, Fairy Tale Elements, Fluffy Ending, Friends to Lovers, Inspired by Ever After High, M/M, Magic School, Matchmaking, Minor Shin Ryujin/Shin Yuna, Misunderstandings, NCT as Ever After High Characters, Pining, Polyamory, Screw Destiny, Slow Burn, Teen Angst, Wooing 101
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:08:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27689410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_aesthetic_of_happiness/pseuds/the_aesthetic_of_happiness
Summary: This is all a metaphor, isn’t it? Renjun is the string, taut against the bow, firing love into the hearts of others, spreading true desire and passion and blah blah blah, but he never gets to release his own arrow. He’s always tense. Always shaking. Always just one arrow away from breaking.And it aches. It aches so much.OR: the norenmin ever after high au, starring Renjun, the love expert whose own love life just happens to be the biggest, baddest flop ever after.
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun/Lee Jeno/Na Jaemin
Comments: 40
Kudos: 172
Collections: NRMFF2020





	1. matchmaker, heartbreaker

**Author's Note:**

> for prompt #52 !

Ever After High is a place of destiny.

Or, well, kind of. Some kids are destined to become frogs. Others, frog-eating witches. In fact, there’s a whole slew of possible fates: fairy godmothers, evil stepsisters, fae empresses, gingerbread men—but none of that is for Renjun Cupid, son of Eros, because Renjun’s destiny has always been to play matchmaker.

To be fair it’s not so bad as other fairy tale fates. One example would be the munchy-crunchy toasty lunchy case of the witch from Hansel and Gretel. Or, the case of a certain water-dwelling princess destined to transform into sea foam. So, really, Renjun’s got nothing to complain about—at least, that was until the moment people started to speak up and ask “Hey why am I forced to follow this predetermined fairy tale future that I give zero fucks about? No one checked with _me_ to see if I wanted to end up as sea foam. How about it?”

And then half the student body decided to throw a rebellion and cast aside their destinies to follow their own true heart’s desires. Yes yes, heard it all before. Inspirational. And don’t get him wrong; Renjun is a rebel, through and through, since everyone knows he’s all about going off-book so long as you stay on-script for matters of the heart. 

There’s just one problem with it all.

It’s lunchtime at Ever After High, and Renjun is eating a ham sandwich. He chews absently on the bread crust as he gazes across the courtyard, inconspicuously glaring the two boys who are the root of all his problems.

Jeno White and Jaemin Queen. Campus couple. Power couple.

Jeno White is the fairest of them all, no doubt. He’s got gorgeous caramel-blond hair that always has a perky bounce and glimmer, despite his mother Snow White who supposedly had hair black as night. (Jeno had once confided in Renjun that he thinks Snow actually dyed her hair black.) Jaemin Queen, on the other hand, doesn’t resemble his fairy tale parents in the least. Instead, he looks like a prince.

Well technically he _is_ a prince, his mother being the Evil Queen—but the Evil Queen is notorious for her gangly neck, jutting chin, and knobbly knuckles (Jaemin says the arthritis is a black magic side effect), while her son is praised for his graceful proportions, his clear lavender eyes, and his pouty mouth, lipsticked in perpetual berry-purple.

Right now, he’s perched on Jeno’s lap, their hands intertwined as they listen and laugh at something their friend is saying about. The two of them look so good together. The sun illuminates them. The school dotes on them. Birds sing for them, ravens and doves alike.

Argh.

Never mind the fact that Jaemin is destined to be Jeno’s fairytale villain—no, the two of them denounced both of their destinies four years ago on Legacy Day, declaring yes, they are gay, and yes, they are in love, and _no_ , no one is going to be feeding anyone _any_ poison apples, because they are going to choose their own paths.

Renjun wishes he could be that brave.

He’s not even brave enough to tell them how he feels. God knows how many couples he’s gotten together in the past 4 years of him playing official matchmaker at this school—he’s pretty sure he’s solved everyone’s romantic struggles except his own.

A voice interrupts his wallowing. “Renjun? Earth to Renjun?”

He tears his gaze away from Jeno and Jaemin.

His friends, Yuna Hearts and Ryujin Cheshire, are peering at him. The former is shaking her box of gummies at him, waiting for him to take one.

Renjun exhales. He takes a gummy bear, hands it to Yuna, and takes the rest of the box for him to munch on. Yuna’s bears are always so tasty.

“Someone’s hungry today,” Ryujin remarks, eyeing him.

Yuna hums and takes out her pocket mirror to make sure that the red heart-shaped makeup around her left eye is still intact. She’s the daughter of the Queen of Hearts, so she takes her makeup very seriously. In Wonderland, which is where she and Ryujin immigrated from, makeup is a political statement. At this point Renjun isn’t sure if Ryujin’s flawless winged eyeliner is a product of many years of practice, or if it’s just tattooed onto her skin.

As daughter of the Cheshire Cat, Ryujin sports fangs, a tail, and the ability to teleport from place to place, while flaunting her signature mischievous grin. She is Yuna’s partner in crime when it comes to shenanigans. The two of them are best friends, and also a couple. Kind of. Renjun thinks it’s more along the lines of queerplatonicism.

“How was Home Evilnomics?” Ryujin asks.

“It was boring as fuck. I still don’t know why I have to take that class,” grumps Yuna. “My mom isn’t evil—she’s just enthusiastic. Alice was the villain all along, if you ask me.”

“That sounds like what a villain would say,” Renjun adds absently.

“No! I’m serious! Think about it. Alice was like seven years old when she flounced into Wonderland and decided to turn everything topsy-turvy. Like, hexcuse me? OFF WITH HER HEAD!”

Yuna slices the head off a gummy worm. Renjun winces. Yuna tends to decapitate things when she’s worked up. 

The girls move on to complaining about Professor Rumpelstiltskin’s atrocious detention policies. After a little while, Renjun leans against the willow tree trunk and shuts his eyes. His head hurts. He feels bad for tuning out but he’s also desperate to soak up whatever downtime he can get.

“Okay, Ren, enough. Are you okay? Seriously.”

It takes Renjun a moment to notice the girls are addressing him. When he peels his eyes open, they’re squinting at him.

“Sorry. Just napping, that’s all.”

“Off with the nap!” Yuna booms. “Tell us how your day was!”

Renjun smiles at her antics. “Yeah, it was okay. Just ho-hum. I’m not looking forward to next class though. I have a hexam next class, and . . . well, you know.”

Yuna makes a sympathetic noise. “Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum, at it again?”

That’s their code name for you-know-who. “Yeah,” Renjun says miserably.

“Good luck,” Ryujin says, patting his shoulder with solemnity and passing him another gummy worm. “You’ll need it.”

♡♡♡

He does need it. Right now he’s halfway through his hexam (it’s for History of Heroes) but he can’t focus because of what Jeno and Jaemin are doing on either side of him.

Jaemin and Jeno have both finished their tests a few minutes ago, and so now they’re relaxing, having turned their chairs sideways so that they can face each other. Renjun can hear Jaemin giggle at something. Jeno chuckles back. There’s the sound of one of them blowing a kiss at the other.

Renjun fights a wave of despair and hunches over his hexam.

It’s like this in almost every class, almost every day. It’s school-wide knowledge that Jeno and Jaemin are masterminds at interrupting lesson plans by means of relentless PDA—absolutely nothing will stop them. Even if they are purposefully placed in desks across the room from each other, Jaemin will charm Jeno’s spare pencils to rise up into the air and form a heart or a smiley face, while Jeno will look over and grin his beautiful crescent grin. They’ll fly paper airplanes to each other across the aisle. They’ll even hext one another in class. It’s unbearable.

The issue is, no one can resist Jeno’s smile, and no one wants to get on Jaemin’s bad side, because he has a tricky habit of accidentally setting stuff on magical purple fire when he gets emotional. Many a desk has been reduced to ash thanks to that. The professors can’t penalize Jaemin for something that he insists he can’t control (and Renjun is pretty sure Jaemin is telling the truth when he says he can’t control it. It makes sense, considering that Jaemin is just _that_ whipped for Jeno, and so he gets upset when people try to get in his way.) 

And so, in the end, the professors are pushovers. They’re too lazy to change the master schedule to swap Jeno and Jaemin into different classes, and they’re too soft to put an end to their disruptive behavior past giving them a low grade for class deportment. (Which Jeno and Jaemin don’t care about, because they’re rebels.) As such, the professors picked Renjun to be seated between Jeno and Jaemin day after day, knowing that he, the student with the most experience putting up with lovebirds, is thus the only student who won’t facilitate their note-passing behaviors and won’t be persuaded to let them change seats so they can cuddle.

“Mr. Queen. Mr. White!” Finally, the professor is intervening a little. “If I may ask you to cease your giggling. The rest of the students are taking a hexam.”

Jeno and Jaemin temporarily quiet down. Renjun breathes again.

He manages to finish his test and turn it into the collection box at the front of the class. When he returns back to his seat, Jeno and Jaemin are at it again.

“Psst. Renjun. Renjun?”

He looks up from his free-reading book at Jeno with a glare.

The other perks up when he sees he’s paing attention. “You’ve finished your test, right?”

“Yeah. Why.”

Jeno sticks a note out at him. “Can you pass this to my pumpkin?”

Renjun glances and sees that Jaemin is looking at him hopefully.

“No. You know the rules.”

There’s even an empty desk radius around all three of them, to further discourage the note-passing. (Yes, that’s how far they’ve come.)

Jaemin whines. “Oh, come on, Ren. We’re friends, aren’t we?” 

Technically, they are. Sort of. Renjun stopped hanging out with them a while ago, once he realized he liked them—but they don’t seem to have gotten the memo, and so they still treat him warmly, which is both a blessing and a curse.

“Please, pass it, Jun!” encourages Jeno. His smile is really pretty.

This isn’t fair.

Renjun sighs and passes the note.

The exchange occurs several times, all while the professor’s back is turned, and near the end of the class Jaemin has amassed a sizable selection of apple-shaped sticky notes. The two of them look happy.

Happy is a good look on them. Renjun, however, fears for the grade he’ll receive on the test. He’s pretty sure it was a fairy-fail. But the next day when he gets his score back, he’s pleasantly surprised to see that he actually got a good grade, despite all of Jeno and Jaemin’s distractions. From then on he decides it’s probably okay to enable their shenanigans. It makes them happy, right? It doesn’t hurt his grades, either. 

If it hurts his heart . . . well, that’s another story. But Renjun’s not about to put an end to their happiness for the sake of something as measly as his own feelings. What kind of crappy friend would he be then?

♡♡♡

Renjun’s daily Mirrorcast radio includes several duties. One, he has to arrange a series of songs to play, as it is a radio after all. (One too many times he’s had to politely tell the noisy Merry Men band that no, he is not interested in promoting their new heavy metal screamo music, thank you very much.) Renjun’s second duty, which takes up the majority of his time on the radio, is to counsel anonymous people on their various love troubles. It’s exactly what he’s good at, and most of the time, he geuinely enjoys it. But today his spirits are low for some reason.

He adjusts his large rose-colored headphones, conscious of the illuminated On-Air light above the door. He wants to sneeze but he doesn’t want to risk ruining the mood. Right now there’s a caller asking for general advice on how to get a significant other, emphasizing that they don’t want this relationship to end up as badly as their previous one. Other callers today included someone asking what they should buy for an anniversary, and before that there was someone asking how to break up with their current boyfriend without hurting him.

“— _And I just, I don’t want to be too picky, but I don’t want to be too easy, you know? I want someone just right. You know?”_

“Yeah,” Renjun says, trying to infuse his voice with as much encouragement as possible. “I totally understand.”

“ _The issue is, I don’t want them to be too similar to my last boyfriend, because if they are then it’s just a bad thing coming.”_

This is the fourth time this person has brought up their past boyfriend. “Caller, I think the real issue here is that you aren’t over your most recent relationship yet. If you go searching for a new one without taking the time to heal and accept the outcome of the last one, then you’ll end up constantly comparing your current partner to the person you were last with. Do you get me?”

“ _Oh. Yes, I suppose I do. Thank you, RenD.”_

That’s his radio name. “Happy to help,” he says. “Thanks very much for dialing in. Next caller, please?”

The microphone crackles, and then the next voice comes in. The tone is purposefully distorted and deepened, so as to protect anonymity.

“ _Hi, RenD.”_

“Hello there,” he says smoothly. 

“ _I’m from a really conservative family and I think I’m having trouble accepting that I like girls. Can you help me out?”_

Renjun nods, even though they can’t see him. This is a commonplace issue he confronts: callers worried about their own internalized homophobia. “Well, my childhood on Mount Olympus really influenced who I am today,” he begins. “There, lots of my Grecian neighbors and relatives are openly queer. So, it was a no-brainer for me to realize that I myself am pansexual. But sometimes, like in your case, our upbringings don’t make it so easy to accept ourselves.”

“ _Do you think it was my destiny to be lesbian? Or do you think this is the outcome of my choices up to this point?_ ”

Even through the distorted voice filter, Renjun can sense the nervousness in this person’s voice. His soft heart within gives a little _aww_. It’s always his favorite to help out the baby gays. 

“Love is love,” he says, and while it’s the most basic-ass piece of advice to give to someone it’s also the truest. “You can’t change what the heart wants. It _is_ possible for sexuality to be fluid in that it can change over time—but that doesn’t mean you change what’s staring you in the face in _this_ moment of time. If you like girls, you like girls. I guess it’s destiny, in a way.”

“ _You think so_ ?” says the caller. “ _Well, I’ve always thought I was a royal . . . I’m worried that me being gay makes me a rebel.”_

“Mm, well, be careful about making connections too fast right there. Sexuality is all about who you are. The question of rebel or royal—now _that’s_ all about what you _choose_. There’s a difference. You have to evaluate each one independently. Because, you know, humans aren’t confined to just one character trait, contrary to the old fairy tales where the heroes were strictly good and the villains were strictly bad—we are living in the present, where we have multiple facets and multiple identities, all of which can and should coexist with each other. Don’t let one of your choices make you feel like you need to either follow the script or flip the script. Be gentle with yourself. Give yourself some wiggle room, to figure it out.”

He notices that the other people manning the studio and microphones are looking at him curiously now, knowing that it’s not common for Renjun to become invested to this degree.

They don’t know how much this advice hits home for Renjun, in more ways than one.

“ _So . . . I’m not doing anything wrong, am I?”_

“Of course not,” he says firmly. “Nothing is wrong about you.”

He wishes he could say the same thing about himself. Is it wrong that he is in love with Jeno and Jaemin? Even though they don’t want him? He knows polyamory is valid, but this goes beyond that. There’s no point in them keeping him around and welcoming him into their relationship when they don’t even see him that way in the first place. It would be far too one-sided. Too much take, not enough give. The last thing Renjun wants to do is take away from Jeno and Jaemin’s success as a couple. 

He shakes himself out of it. He can’t afford to lose himself in a long romantic crisis right now. 

“Anyway I hope this offers you some solace, caller. Just know you’re not alone. All of us are going through the same thing. We’re all asking ourselves the same questions, whether or not it seems like it on the outside.”

The caller thanks him profusely. With that, Renjun wraps up the show, thanking his listeners and telling them to tune in next Wednesday when he’ll be back on air. 

“Until then, folks, charm you later. Have a great afternoon.”

As he takes off his headphones and leaves the studio, he can’t help but feel like a hypocrite. He certainly doesn’t practice what he preaches.

♡♡♡

The next afternoon, Ryujin and Yuna have Sapphics United club during lunch, leaving Renjun is left alone in their usual spot under the weeping willow tree. He doesn’t really mind. This way, he can get a head start on his thronework.

“Hey Cupid! Can we sit here?”

Ah, yes. It’s Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum. He looks up and gives them a smile, hoping it doesn’t look strained. Jaemin grins back and sits down beside him, then opens his knees and pats the grass there in a motion to ask Jeno to be the little spoon. And Jeno obliges, sitting down and settling up against Jaemin’s torso. Wow, they know each other well, huh?

“Where’s the rest of your guys’ posse?” Renjun asks. Usually they hang out with quite a few other royals and rebels, including the cousins Beauty, the cousins Hood, the siblings Charming, and the charmingly awkward son of the frog prince.

“The others are attending Hyuck’s secret midday study party for Professor Rumpelstiltskin’s pop quiz,” Jeno says conspiratorially.

“And . . . why are you two not attending said study party?” Renjun says, amused.

“Because we wanted to hang out with you,” Jaemin says. “You looked really cute over here. You know, your pink hair is gorgeous when the sun hits it. Makes you look like you’ve got a halo. Like you’re an angel.”

Jeno elbows him. Jaemin squawks. 

“What! It’s true!”

Jeno hisses something that sounds suspiciously along the lines of _stop blowing our cover_. From there, the couple dissolves into hushed squabbling.

Renjun reaches up to self-consciously touch his head of rose pink curls. His heart is beating a little fast.

“So,” Jeno says loudly, and Jaemin quiets down for him to address Renjun. “Jun! How’s your Mirrorcast radio going?”

Renjun’s always eager to talk about his radio. “Oh, it’s spelltacular. Hey, maybe you can guest-star one day! I’m sure a lot of people will be interested in what you two have to say about the whole royal-rebel romance you’ve got going on.”

Jaemin shrugs. “What’s there to say about it? We’re not special. We’re just two boys in love.”

Jeno leans his head back against Jaemin’s shoulder to peer at him. “I’m special, though, right?” he asks.

Jaemin pats his hair. “Yes, apple pie. In my heart you are.”

Renjun watches them, a bittersweet feeling in his heart. “Stop making me the third wheel, guys,” he speaks up, jokingly. “You already do enough of that in class, don’t you think?”

“Oh no . . . do you really think so? Is it bothering you?”

Jeno is wide-eyed, earnest. He expects Renjun to tell him the truth. He doesn’t know that Renjun has been keeping secrets, that he hasn’t been honest with the two of them in a fairy, fairy long time.

He looks down at his lunch food.

“No,” he mumbles. “It’s . . . no, it’s fine. I’m okay.”

And that’s that. He can almost hear Yuna chastising him—if she were here, she’d be like, _Renjun, you’re mad as a hatter, you need to get a fucking spine._

The problem is, he’s weak. He’s spineless. 

For the rest of the afternoon he stays sitting next to Jeno and Jaemin in the shade of the willow tree. The two of them, snug against each other like two peas in a pod, change the subject and talk, eat, chat, and laugh, all as if nothing’s wrong.

Maybe there isn’t anything wrong. 

Maybe Renjun is what’s wrong.


	2. archer, departure

At least Renjun's good at one thing. And that’s archery.

“Take a good look, everyone! Look at his posture! Impeccable. The focused look in his eyes, the steadiness in his grip—now _this_ is what an archer looks like!”

The coach is basically waxing poetry about Renjun at this point. It’s a daily occurrence. Right now he’s doing a class demonstration as a way to spook and impress the younger students by his mad archery skills. He’s on horseback— _pegasus_ back if he’s being specific—and the pegasus also happens to be flying upside-down, a good fifty meters from the target he’s aiming for. He only has one arrow, and a kiddie bow, and also his pair of feathered cupid wings are roped together to act as yet another hurdle.

All the same, he’s not worried. Clenching the arrow between his teeth, he steers the reins of the pegasus a good distance upwind, then nocks the arrow and aims.

The pegasus is wobbling thanks to the air currents. Renjun can’t get a good shot like this. 

He steels himself, presses his lips together, and releases his knees. And with that, he’s plummeting, headfirst and upside-down toward the ground. The kids gasp. Renjun ignores them, aims the arrow again, and shuts one eye.

When he releases, it slams a hair to the left of the bullseye of the target. Ugh, so close. The pegasus whinnies and that’s the only warning he gets before it swoops in and snatches him by the hood of his hoodie, knocking the air out of him so thoroughly that he’s still regaining his breath when the pegasus touches down on the grass amidst the awed onlookers.

“Very nice, Mr. Cupid,” says the Coach Gingerbread, clapping his little gingerbread hands together with enough enthusiasm that bits of the cookie are flaking into the air . “You were hexellent! You nearly nailed it.”

“Thanks, coach.”

From there, Gingerbread orders his students to start practicing on the drills he taught them earlier: _“do you want to become as good as Pink Hair over there? Then you better get to work. Chop chop, buttercups, it’s a scary world out there. You never know when some humans are gonna eat you and all you have to defend yourself is a bow and arrow made of licorice. True story. I’ll tell it to ya anytime.”_

“Renjun!” calls a voice. 

He turns and sees Jeno, standing there with his hands in his pockets and a smile on his face. Renjun’s face splits into a smile. That’s just the effect Jeno has on him.

“Hi, you,” he says, going over.

“Hi yourself,” Jeno replies warmly. He rocks back on his heels. “So what’s up? I didn’t know you took Beginner’s Archery.”

“Ah, no, I’m just a T.A. You’re right, I don’t really belong in this class. Have you seen the way the freshmen store their quivers? It’s atrocious. Coach Gingerbread’s all bark and no bite—he’s not nearly hard enough on them, in my opinion.”

Jeno laughs. “You’d probably be a better teacher than him from what I’m seeing. Think about it—Renjun Cupid, professional archer, campus heartbreaker with good hair and good aim. You’d have everyone clambering to sign up for your class right away.”

“Oh, definitely,” Renjun agrees. “I’ve got it all. Beauty and brawn.”

“And brains,” Jeno adds cheerfully. Ugh, he’s so sweet. “Oh, by the way, how’d you do on the last History of Heroes hexam? Jaemin and I were worried that maybe we were being kinda distracting. Next time we’ll dial it down a little so you can take your test in peace. We’re really sorry that the professors always place you between the two of us. It’s royally unfair to you.”

 _Ah, yes, in more ways than one_ , Renjun thinks. “Haha, thanks. I got a B. What about you?”

“I got a 98. No, don’t look at me like that, I _know_ it’s a good score—but it just irks me that I keep getting all the Charmings mixed up. It’s the only thing standing in my way from a perfect score in that class. I mean, there’s like, five different families Charming!”

The pegasus butts at Renjun’s shoulder, and he takes out an apple for it to munch on. “And _you_ would’ve become one of them,” he says, watching the way the pegasus’s teeth crunch on the fruit. “I mean, if you’d signed the Storybook of Legends.” He turns to give Jeno a bit of a grin. “Which you didn’t. So, in all actuality, you’ll never have to keep track of all those Charmings—it’s all just busywork.”

“I mean, I like having the knowledge,” Jeno argues, because that’s just the kind of person he is. “Even though I went off-book, I still think it’s important to be caught up on current events and political figures.”

Renjun laughs and pats the pegasus’s snout. “Yeah, okay. But the book of Jeno White’s romantic life is pretty much closed, so.”

For some reason, Jeno falters. “Oh,” he says softly. “Um, about that . . . .” 

Renjun’s brow furrows. “Did I overstep? I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay!” Jeno says. “It’s just, well. Jaemin and I, we . . . .”

He looks shy. As if he wants to say something but he can’t quite get it out. It’s unhexpected of him; Jeno’s usually straightforward.

“I’m just saying not to judge our book by its cover,” says Jeno, finally.

Like _that’s_ not cryptic. Renjun clears his throat. “Got it. Of course. Well . . . uh, I think I have to get back to my T.A. duties. It was nice talking to you, though.”

Jeno bobs his head. “Yeah, I’ve gotta go talk to Coach Gingerbread about the upcoming bookball tournament. See you later, Renjun. But—if you’re free, then meet me after class? We can hang out together?” 

The way that he phrases these invitations as questions is sweet for a reason Renjun can’t put his finger on. “Sure,” he says, smiling back. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

  
  


It isn’t long until one of the students comes up to him and hesitantly says his name. Renjun turns from where he’s feeding the pegasus another apple—behind him stands a young, freshman girl with long blonde pigtails. She eyes him nervously, fingers picking at her beginner’s bow.

“Hey there,” he says. “What’s your name?”

“Winter, but most people call me Minjeong.”

“Nice to meet you, Minjeong. Let’s pick a target and get started.”

He tries his best to help her. He really does. It’s just that she’s abysmal at archery, and also, she’s got a bit of a problem keeping her magical ice powers under control; she accidentally adds frost to every single one of her arrows, meaning that the result shot is overly heavy and always flies short. After the fifth time this happens, she puts her thoroughly icy bow down with a despairing look. 

“Um . . . maybe if you wear gloves it’ll help?” Renjun says.

She shakes her head. “The gloves will just freeze too,” she says sadly.

“Okay, let’s try this.” Renjun reaches up and takes her hands in his, stopping when she goes still. “Oh I’m sorry. Is this okay?”

“Y—yes, yes! I don’t mind.” 

Her face is pink. Renjun decides to overlook it. “All right, great. Focus on not freezing my hands. Can you do that? Just, like, concentrate.”

She furrows her brow. “Okay.”

A couple seconds pass as she tries hard to keep her powers in check. Wow, her fingers are royally cold. Renjun grimaces a little as he starts to feel his fingertips go numb.

He’s about to ask her to stop when all of the sudden a warm hand takes his wrist and pulls him away. Renjun looks up startled.

It’s Jeno, his eyes oddly dark.

“Jeno? What are you doing here?”

Jeno tugs him closer, waiting until Renjun has let go of Minjeong’s hands before he clears his throat and speaks up. “Finished talking with the coach. You okay? What are you two doing?”

“He was just helping me out with my magic.”

Jeno turns to her. “You should ask Baba Yaga for some private lessons in getting your magic under control. She’d be happy to help you out.”

Minjeong shrinks, inexplicably, and Renjun can only wonder what kind of look Jeno’s giving her. He can’t tell; Jeno’s back is turned to him.

“Okay,” she says. “And—Renjun, I’m sorry if I hurt you, I really didn’t mean to.”

After she runs off, the tension seems to alleviate from Jeno’s frame, and he turns to Renjun, his voice soft now.

“Are your hands okay?”

“Yeah,” Renjun says dryly. “What’d you interrupt for?”

Jeno’s fingers drift down to link with Renjun’s. He squeezes lightly. “Sorry. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I don’t think you should go around holding people’s hands. Like, what if it’s unsafe?”

“Unsafe? The freshmen have two personality traits: cute, and harmless.”

“No matter how cute they are, you can’t hold their hands.”

Jeno looks insistent. Since when is he so possessive? Renjun knows they’re friends, but this kind of behavior is new. “Sorry Jeno, but you need to take a chill pill. I’m fine, okay? Nothing happened. You’re being confusing.”

At that, Jeno bites his lip, as if he wants Renjun to understand something. _What_ does he want him to understand? “Renjun . . . .”

And then it dawns on him. Renjun takes a whole step back, slipping out of Jeno’s grip, his wings fluttering half in agitation and half in something else. “Wait a spell. You’re not jealous, are you?”

Jeno sputters. 

“ What? Where would you get that idea?”

His high-pitched tone and wide eyes must mean that Renjun really missed by a long shot. He holds back a sigh and his wings go still, his heels landing back on the ground. Why would Jeno have any reason to be jealous of people who hold Renjun’s hand? Renjun is embarrassed he even thought about it. 

“Yeah,” he mumbles. “Sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking.”

From that day on, he vows to be more careful, so that Jeno and Jaemin don’t the feelings buried in his heart—the thought of them finding out is terrifying. They’d probably stop talking to him altogether. And Renjun’s heart would be reduced to nothing more than tattered pieces, like a pair of broken wings.

♡♡♡

That week, Renjun barely sleeps, tossing and turning and barely showing up in time to his 8 am classes. He feels pent-up and exhausted all at the same time, so he channels his energy by agreeing to help other students get their dream dates in exchange for a bit of homework help. It’s a win-win for both parties. No downsides, none at all. Just a little fatigue, but it comes with secondary happiness, so it’s not so bad.

“You shouldn’t have to settle for secondary happiness,” Yuna says him one day at lunch on a drizzling afternoon, when she’s snuggled up next to him for warmth. “You deserve real happiness.”

Renjun reaches up and flicks her crown. “I’m fine, Hearts.”

The playful gesture is enough to fool her. She rests her head on his shoulder and hums, taking out her deck of cards to shuffle between her palms. Yuna can shuffle for hours, and hours. It’s a stim. She’s notoriously dexterous at card tricks because of it.

It starts to rain a little harder, and there’s a yelp of surprise from above. It’s Ryujin, startled awake from her cat nap. She jumps down from the willow tree branch to sit on Renjun’s other side, tugging at one of his feathered wings until he lifts it so she can tuck herself against him.

The three of them sit together in comfortable quiet. Ryujin waits until Yuna is sound asleep, soft snores coming from her pursed red lips, but then she nudges Renjun’s shoulder.

“Hmm?” he says.

“It’s not nice to spread fables,” she says.

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m saying, I don’t like it when you lie to us. You can tell us the truth. What’s the hatter these days, Ren? You look so exhausted all the time.”

“I’m fine, Ryu. Go back to sleep,” he says softly.

She lifts her head off his shoulder to give him a look. 

The thing about a Cheshire’s smile is that most of the time, it doesn’t mean they’re happy. Rather, cheshires have thousands of types of smiles: angry ones, cruel ones, bored ones, frightened ones . . . Renjun can only keep track of about 4 different versions of Ryujin’s smiles before he loses count. Right now, he thinks the one on Ryujin’s face means she’s either disappointed or in that very specific mood where she wants mice but she doesn’t want to actually put in any of the work to catch them.

Judging by the sharpness in her eyes, it’s probably the former.

“I’m tired of you saying you’re okay. You can confide in us, you know? We’re your friends.”

“I know,” Renjun says quietly. They’re his best friends forever after.

“Then why won’t you trust us?”

“I do trust you. It’s not like what I’m going through is anything you don’t already know about. These days are just a little hard, that’s all. I’ll get through it.”

“Is there any way we can help you out a little?”

“Not really.”

By now, Yuna has awoken from all the squabbling. “The rabbit?” she mumbles, poking her head up with sleepy eyes. “The habit? Does he have it, mad it?”

Even though she’s speaking in riddles he suspects she’s talking about him.

“He has it. Madder than ever,” Ryujin replies.

Okay, they’re definitely talking about him. “Guys, please.”

“Here, do we wanna all go to the archery courts?” the cheshire suggests gently. “You look like you need to work off some stress, Ren.”

She’s so nice. Most days, he would say yes to the archery. Then all of them would all take their things over to the lawn where the school provided an abundance shooting targets for him to practice on. The two girls would nestle into the grass beside a target and chat, Yuna’s head in Ryujin’s lap while Ryujin braids flowers into her hair. 

But today, Renjun’s not in the mood to shoot arrows by himself while his best friends cuddle. He’s just . . . not. 

“It’s raining too much. And I said I’m fine, Ryujin. Lay off, will you?”

Ryujin shrinks, her ears flattening at the reprimand. Yuna speaks up with a frown.

“Aww, come on, Renjun, don’t be like that. We’re just trying to help.”

He lets out a long breath. “I know, I know. I’m sorry guys. I’m just feeling a little under the weather.”

“I mean, it _is_ raining cats and dogs,” Yuna says, to lighten the mood. “You have a right to feel a little down every once in a while.”

“It’s not raining cats. Just dogs,” Ryujin retorts, playing along.

“Why can’t cats rain too?”

“Dogs drool, and skies drool, but cats have rules. C for civilization.”

“C for clouds,” Yuna objects.

They’ve slipped into Riddleish. Renjun shakes his head and relaxes back into the tree trunk with a soft sigh. At least he has his friends. At least they’re happy. For now, the secondary happiness will have to do.

He tells himself that over and over, until he almost actually believes it.

♡♡♡

Today is a foggy evening, mist thickening the air with an ethereal softness. Renjun’s breath forms puffs of smoke, and he’s got a scarf pulled up to his chin, his hands plunged in his dark pink coat and his heeled boots padding on the grass. He probably looks like shit. At least no one’s awake to judge him. It’s got to be 1 or 2 in the morning.

He makes his way to the center of the Ever After High maze, where the shooting grounds can be found. When he gets there he sets his stuff down, stretches his neck, slips on his arm guard, and readies himself.

His arrow thuds into the target. A moment later, a second plunges through the first, splitting it in two. Then another, once again shredding in half. This is wasteful; he won’t be able to use the ruined arrows again.

But the rhythm of it is so familiar, so satisfying. So he shoots, and shoots, and shoots, again and again, relentlessly. Grab the arrow. Nock it. Aim it. Fire. Grab. Nock. Aim. Fire. Fire. Fire. Fire. He loses track of time. Only when the original arrow is reduced to splinters does he stop to breathe—the splinters are resting forlornly atop the grass, like strips of torn butterfly wings. 

Renjun’s arm aches and his bow vibrates from overuse. He lowers his arms.

This is all a metaphor, isn’t it? Renjun is the string, taut against the bow, firing love into the hearts of others, spreading true desire and passion and blah blah blah, but he never gets to release his own arrow. He’s always tense. Always shaking. Always just one arrow away from breaking.

And it aches. It aches so much.

Silently, he releases his final arrow. He doesn’t wait to see if it hits the target; already, he’s turning away to pack up his things and go to class, wiping away the unexpected tears on his cheeks. 

After a moment, he realizes he didn’t hear the arrow land. Alarmed, he whirls around—but it’s just Jaemin, standing there, his glowing fingertip raised so that the ghostly purple light of his magic parts the mist and holds the arrow aloft. He’s inspecting the arrowhead curiously.

His eyes flicker to Renjun. 

“Hey, angel.”

Renjun hastily tries to collect himself, discreetly swiping his tears away with his sleeve. “Hey, Jaemin.”

“You’re up late,” the witch notes. “What are you doing out here? I hexted you but you didn’t answer. Did you forget to charge your phone again?”

“Uh, yeah. Something like that.” Renjun’s phone is on Do Not Disturb.

Jaemin comes closer to show him the arrow that he caught. It’s a heart bullet, the type that automatically swerves through the air to slam into the chest of the closest lovesick person and artificially enhance their love life. Renjun’s eyes flare. Grimm, he hadn’t meant to shoot that one. He’d really been out of it, huh? If Jaemin hadn’t been there, who knows whose love life he could’ve wrecked?

The magic purple glow vanishes as he lets the arrow drop into Renjun’s hands, where it wriggles in vain to get free. 

“It’s pointing toward you,” observes Jaemin. “What does that mean?”

Renjun shrugs. “It’s attracted to me.”

“Why?”

“Are you saying I’m not attractive?”

Jaemin laughs. “I—okay, that is not—no. You are the opposite of unattractive.”

Renjun firmly tells himself not to overthink whatever _that_ means. He chuckles along awkwardly, until Jaemin calms down a bit and takes his bag off his shoulder, pulling out his quiver and bow.

“I’m here for a little archery practice. Think you could give me a hand? I’m kinda an amateur.”

“Sure.”

With that, Jaemin positions himself an acceptable distance in front of a target, strapping the quiver to his chest and putting on the armguard. He checks to see if Renjun’s watching, then shoots him a smile and gets into stance.

When Jaemin said he was an amateur he really meant it. In no time at all, Renjun is getting up from where he’d made a comfortable seat in the grass, going over to scold Jaemin for unsafe posture and instruct him in ways to actually make the arrow go anywhere vaguely near the hemisphere of the globe where the target is located. Jaemin listens well. 

Then, out of the blue, he lowers his bow and leans in to inspect Renjun’s face.

Renjun leans back to avoid them bumping noses. “What?”

“Were you crying?” Jaemin asks.

“No. Ha. Why would you think that?”

“Your cheeks . . . I dunno, they look kinda wet.”

Renjun tries his best to bristle as if Jaemin has just mortally offended him. “My tears actually come out as heart shaped sequins, for your information. Do you see any heart shaped sequins lying around here on the grass? No. You don’t. And anyway you’re holding that bow all wrong—your elbow needs to be higher. Also what’s going on with your stance? For the last time, it’s not straight.”

“That’s because I’m not straight,” Jaemin says, giving him a smile that’s visible even in the darkness of the night.

Renjun mutters. He steps up behind him, his front brushing against Jaemin’s back as he lifts his elbow, covers Jaemin’s hand with his own, and pulls the arrow back, back, back, until he’s satisfied with the tension.

“Now this is what it should look like,” he says.

Jaemin clears his throat. “Okay.”

“Now shoot your shot.”

“Okay.”

But he doesn’t move. He stands still, Renjun’s soft hand on his, their faces so close together that Renjun can feel the heat radiating off Jaemin’s cheek. 

Wait. 

“Are you blushing?” Renjun asks incredulously.

“No!” comes the blurted response. “No, I’m not. Fuck.”

And then Renjun realizes that it’s because he has cozied up so completely next to Jaemin that there’s virtually no space in between them. Oh no. Renjun is _completely_ intruding on his personal space. He jerks away from Jaemin, mumbling an apology. Jaemin laughs strainedly. But as they continue on with their practice, silent now, the witch’s aim is off, and he can’t seem to hit anywhere near the center of the target.

“Um,” Jaemin voices awkwardly, “I heard that Jeno got jealous over something you did the other day.”

“Mm? What? When?”

“He told me he saw you, uh, acting intimate with one of the freshman girls.”

“ Hexcuse me? Okay, no, there was no intimacy, I was literally just holding her hand. And secondly, Jeno wasn’t jealous, he was just worried about my safety. The girl was like Elsa from Frozen—she couldn’t control her own magic.”

“Oh,” Jaemin says. “I get that. I mean, magic follows emotion, and emotions are terribly hard to get a handle of. The best magicians tend to be pretty heartless as a result, whereas the rest of us just struggle and pine.” He steals a quick look at Renjun. “Maybe she was nervous because she had a crush on you?”

Renjun chokes. 

Jaemin continues defensively, his voice rising. “What? It’s possible! And it would explain why Jen got worked up! You know, he doesn’t look it, but he’s the jealous type.”

“Please!” Renjun manages to say through his laughter. “There are _so_ many flaws in that reasoning, I can’t even—okay, first of all, _why_ would he—and of her—oh Grimm. Spare me.”

“Stop laughing, will you? It was just a question. Just—oh, never mind, forget I said anything.”

Renjun quiets down. He almost apologizes, but he’s not sure what the apology would even be for, and also he doesn’t want to make the situation any more flustering than it is. Silently, the two of them finish up their work and pack their things, then say goodnight and go their separate ways.

It takes Renjun forty-five minutes to fall asleep, and when he does, his dreams are full of thick maze hedges, two pairs of shoes side by side on the grass, and finally the starry sky, gazing serenely down upon two boys who are never destined to be together.


	3. screw wooing

The next time all three of them happen to meet up is in the castleteria two weeks later for breakfast. Yuna and Ryujin never eat breakfast, so Renjun usually has his French toast alone, but today when he saw Jeno and Jaemin sitting across the castleteria he couldn’t stop himself from standing up and walking over to join them. 

“Good morning.”

“Good morning!” Jaemin chirps. “Sit here.” He pats the bench next to him.

Renjun sits. Jeno, looking tired, let out a yawn. 

“Jaem, baby bird, do you think you can you cast one of your energy hexes on me? Just so I can make it through the day.”

“Sorry, apple pie. No can do. I don’t want to risk it backfiring.”

Jeno whines, then turns to Renjun now, who’s in the middle of cutting up his French toast. “Jun, you take Chemythstry, don’t you? Can you whip up a potion to keep me from, like, _not_ passing out and drooling all over my notes like a slob, I would be so grateful.”

Renjun chuckles a little at the idea. It’s not possible for Jeno to look like gross in his eyes, or anyone’s eyes, really—even after finals week when he’s dead tired and curled up fast asleep in bed, he’s cute, lips pursed and knees tucked up to his chest. He’s Jeno. He is always cute.

Renjun gets up. “Sure I can make you a potion. Hold on.” 

When he comes back, Jeno has migrated over to Jaemin and is resting his head on his shoulder, eyes shut. Jaemin is murmuring something to him, and Jeno is nodding a little, to show he’s listening. It’s sweet. On their left on the empty part of the bench is Jaemin’s bulky leather backpack with violet zippers and bold enamel pins—and then on their right is Jeno’s small, pretty satchel, adorned with golden embroidery and lace. The contrast is dramatic. The colors, while clashing, somehow compliment each other. 

Renjun’s footsteps slow.

Jeno and Jaemin look good together. They really do.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he steels himself, then places the cup in his hand onto the tabletop, a little harder than necessary. “Here you go,” he says. “There’s your potion.”

Jeno peels his eyes open. He blinks at the cup and sniffs the air experimentally. “Is that . . . coffee?”

“Yep,” Renjun says. “With too much cream and sugar, just the way you like it. Caffeine is the safest energy potion. Trust me. Professor Rumpelstiltskin says that if you tamper with stuff to try to make something new, it usually ends up behaving more like steroids or drugs. Not sure how he would know that but yeah. Yay, coffee.”

“Yay,” Jeno says sounding uncertain. He was probably caught off guard by the uncharacteristic loudness in Renjun’s voice. “Thank you for getting it for me.”

“Yeah. I have to go now. Have a good day you two.”

“Hex you later,” Jaemin calls, as a good-bye.

Walking away, Renjun doesn’t look back. He doesn’t. He doesn’t need to see the two of them, continuing their quiet conversation as if he’s not there, as if he’d never been there. Jeno White and Jaemin Queen—white and black, blond and raven, with no place for Renjun’s pink.

♡♡♡

He finds ways to distract himself. He decides to double the frequency of his weekly radio show. When that’s not enough, he starts taking on more and more private romantic counseling jobs, free of charge. He just wants something to keep his mind off of the one relationship he’ll never have. He just wants to bury it.

♡♡♡

He’s been getting odd vibes from Ryujin and Yuna lately—he’ll catch them talking in the halls, but when he goes up to them to say hi, they’ll abruptly fall silent and fumble to change the subject.

It’s a little hurtful. But for the time being, he decides that he trusts them enough to just let them figure it out themselves. They’ve always been okay.

Sure enough, Ryujin’s the one to breach the gap and come clean first. She confronts him on the backdoor staircase of the Charmitorium, causing him to screech to a halt from where he’s heading down the wide grand marble steps.

“Hey,” she says loudly, in that voice she uses when she’s going to rag on him.

“No thank you,” Renjun says and tries to walk past her, but she teleports with that damn cheshire trick and stops him.

Her tail is flicking at its tip, showing that she’s agitated. “Hey, Renjun. Yuna and I have been thinking, you are treating yourself _so_ horrible these days, and it needs to stop.”

Renjun stares. 

She barrels on. “Like, I’m sorry, but you dont look like the cat’s meow right about now. Not to mention, your hair is losing its shine. When was the last time you touched up your roots?”

“Uh,” he says, reaching up to touch his pink hair. “I don’t . . . my hair is naturally this color.”

“Oh. Well, I caught the O’Hair twins whispering that they don’t think it’s possible to be born with pink hair like yours. It even has the little heart-shaped cowlick, sticking up at the back of your head. You’re basically an anime character! It doesn’t make sense.”

“Ryujin, you have _cat_ ears sticking out of your hair,” Renjun points out. “Ever After High kids don’t tend to make sense.”

For the most part, that is. He knows for a fact that Jaemin’s purple highlights aren’t natural and that they’re just a product of an extensive dye job, even if Jaemin does a hexellent job of keeping his hair looking healthy.

He briefly wonders what it’d be like to run his hands through Jaemin’s hair. It’s probably really soft.

He shakes his head. He needs to fucking stop.

“Thank you for being concerned about me Ryujin, but I think I’ll be fine. Pairing people up with their dream dates gives me energy and makes me feel purposeful, you know? It’s my outlet.”

Ryujin smiles. It’s her pissed smile. “You’re just a workaholic in denial, that’s what you are. Yuna and I both agree that it’s obviously tearing you apart that you still haven’t gotten over Jeno and Jaemin. _Why_ are you still holding onto those two? Renjun, you’re popular. And you’re nice to look at, if I’m being honest. There are plenty of single people at this school, looking to get a little action! You just aren’t _seeing_ —”

“Seeing what,” he says flatly.

In a burst of glitter, Ryujin vanishes and reappears, this time right in front of Renjun’s face. “You’re not _seeing_ how unhappy you are,” she says. Her grin says she wants to strangle him. “You’re being such a riddle. Both Yuna and I can’t understand you—and remember, _we’re_ the ones who speak Riddlish.”

He gazes steadily at her. 

How is it possible that he can present himself so calmly when he’s such a mess inside? 

“Well, I’m sorry,” he says.

“I don’t care if you’re sorry. I want to know, why does it have to be Jeno and Jaemin? Tell me. Why them? You could have anyone. So why them?”

A long moment passes. 

“A suit of hearts is a suit of hearts,” he says at last.

It’s Riddlish. He really is better at Riddlish than he lets on, you know. Or maybe it’s just that this particular sentence is simple—it’s simple, and true, but more than anything it’s just sad.

She stares at him for a good moment, before her face closes and she looks away.

“Whatever after,” she mutters. 

Then she turns her back and disappears, without saying good-bye.

She’ll be fine, Renjun thinks, even as his heart sinks in her absence. They’ll be fine. They always have been. 

He continues wakling down the stairs on his way over to the Grimmnasium. The cheerhexers have been trying to match Hyuck Beauty and Yukhei Thorn up for months; he promised them earlier that he’d stop by and see what he could do to get them together.

♡♡♡

Advanced Wooing is by far the worst part of Renjun’s week. It’s pointless, if you ask him. Every year, girls and boys flock to sign up for the hexclusive class, whereas Renjun was automatically guaranteed (and forced into) a spot this semester despite his fairytale identity. He’s told Headmaster Grimm _so_ many times that he wants to be transferred, but the headmaster seems set against it. _It’s part of your graduation requirements!_ he preached. _Just because you’re a renowned love hexpert doesn’t mean you’re off the hook, you know!_

So, today, on this bitter, bitter winter day in Advanced Wooing, Renjun is once again enduring the struggle. And he’s seated between Jeno and Jaemin. No surprise there.

At the front of the classroom, the professor is preaching about the importance of good hygiene when pursuing one’s object of affections. 

“In unit three we covered the hand-against-the-wall maneuver—with an optimal distance of four inches between the faces. Now, everyone, when your face is _that_ close to your target it is important to always carry a pack of mint-flavored pixie sticks or else the result of your advances will be nothing more than vulgar disdain. This is of peak importance. Wait a moment—Mr. Queen? Mr. White? Are you listening to me?”

Jaemin is in the middle of looking at Jeno with the irl equivalent of emoji heart eyes. He turns to the professor and raises his brows.

“Yes, we’re listening.”

“It didn’t look like it. It looked like you two were ogling each other like horny ogres.”

Renjun snorts a little at that. He doesn’t notice the hurt look that both Jeno and Jaemin shoot him when they hear him.

“This has gone on far enough,” says the professor. “You two are a menace. I’m going to need you to prove to me that you were listening to my lecture.”

At _that_ , all of students in the class perk up. Demonstrations are the pinnacle of entertainment here at Ever After High.

“What do you mean? What do we prove?” asks Jeno.

“Prove you understand the basic maneuvers and protocols we’ve reviewed today. Go on. Stand up. You may demonstrate on each other. Hop to it now! We don’t have all day.”

Reluctantly, Jeno and Jaemin get out of their seats, and with that, the class deflates. The last thing everyone wants is another demonstration of Jeno and Jaemin’s PDA. Renjun rolls his eyes and slides down further in his seat, shoving his hands in his sweater pockets. He hates it here.

Jaemin clears his throat. “Ahem. Wait a spell, prof. What if I don’t want to demonstrate on Jeno?”

Simultaneously every person’s ears prick. They quickly look at Jeno to see his reaction, but all he’s doing is smirking, just slightly, like he’s in on this too.

Renjun casts a dubious look in their direction, wondering what the hex they’d be up to now, and a shiver runs up his spine when he realizes they’re already looking at him.

“I nominate our friend Renjun,” says Jeno, not breaking eye contact.

“Me too,” says Jaemin.

Alarm bells go off in the back of Renjun’s head. He throws a look over his shoulder at the teacher, as if to check if she’s hearing this too, and then he whips back around to hiss, “What are you trying to do here?”

“What? It’ll be fun,” says Jeno, innocent, except for the glint in his eyes.

 _Fun_. They think that toying with him like this is all just kicks and giggles, huh?

The class holds its breath in anticipation. They know that the tension between the three boys has been building for a while by now, and they’re hungry for resolution, for action, for _something_. Maybe they’re just as tired as Renjun is.

“What do you say, angel?” asks Jaemin.

“If he doesn’t want to participate he doesn’t have to,” interrupts the professor.

For a brief moment, Renjun considers backing out, but—the sight of their matching smirks causes his small fists to curl. He sets his jaw, then pushes up out of his seat.

“I think I want to participate.”

The class roars. Jeno and Jaemin’s face split into smiles. The three of them gather at the front of the room by the blackboard, the teacher giving them the floor, and—ugh, they look so satisfied with themselves. Squaring his shoulders, Renjun turns to Jeno first, who gives him a gamely eye smile.

“Let’s get this started, yeah?” Renjun mutters.

His hand comes up to rest lightly on Jeno’s chest. The other only tilts his head ever so slightly to the left, as if curious to see what Renjun’ll do. Well Renjun isn’t the son of the fucking god of romance for nothing. His hand travels up until he’s grasped Jeno’s apple-red necktie in his fist, and he smiles sweetly.

“Has anyone ever told you that you always tie this too loose?”

Jeno freezes as Renjun brings his other hand up, his touch feather-light as he carefully fixes his necktie, flattening it back so it’s sitting correctly under his white collar, then smoothing out Jeno’s shirt and shoulders while letting his gaze linger on his chest admiringly.

“You know, Jeno, you have a nice body. As far as bodies go.”

In the background, the professor narrates the scene. “Ah, so we see Mr. Cupid paid attention during our lesson on wardrobe-related flirting. Smooth. Adequate. Seven out of ten.”

Only a seven?

No time like the present. His hand still wrapped around Jeno’s necktie, Renjun starts to advance forward, forcing the other to back up until he’s pressed against the side of the class’s baby grand piano. Renjun leans in, and despite being considerably shorter than the other, he manages to bend Jeno over, until the prince’s elbows hit the piano surface and he’s tilting back so as for their faces not to collide.

“Maneuver fourteen,” Renjun says softly. “Up against a table-like surface.”

“Eight out of ten,” decides the professor.

Renjun tugs him in by his tie swift enough to make Jeno’s breath catch—in a split second, he’s got his head tilted with his eyes shut and their mouths mere centimeters apart from each other. He hovers there, agonizingly close, and when he opens his eyes after a moment he finds that Jeno’s eyes were shut too, almost as if he really expected to be kissed. 

For a moment Renjun wants to do it. Wants to kiss him.

He exhales, then steps back, letting go. The other’s eyes shoot open. The class is silent, enthralled by the unexpected tension in Jeno’s body, and Renjun meets Jeno’s gaze with silent eyes, hoping that somehow in this tiny exchange Jeno got a taste of what it’s like to be the one denied. The one left wanting. 

“My turn,” Jaemin says loudly.

Oh, no. Everyone knows that before Jaemin started dating Jeno, he was a regular and popular playboy. Renjun steels himself and turns to face him and stays still as Jaemin reaches down, takes his hand, and drops a kiss onto his knuckles, then twines their fingers together all in one smooth motion. 

He begins to talk, probably giving him compliments quoted right out of some type of Playboy’s Handbook, but Renjun can’t hear anything, too focused by how Jaemin’s hand feels nice in his.

He’s getting whiplash at how fast things are happening. 

“—so, you see, I’m afraid you’re my missing puzzle piece.”

“I thought that was Jeno,” Renjun says.

“I can have as many pieces in my puzzle as I’d like, love,” says Jaemin, kissing Renjun’s hand again, this time near the tips of his fingers. His archery fingers. Oh, Jaemin knows what he’s doing all right—it’s almost like he practiced this or something.

“Think of it like this,” Jeno says, from behind them. “Jaemin and I are the puzzle. And you’re the missing piece.”

The class coos.

Renjun frowns. Seriously? 

The teacher speaks up cheerfully in the background, as if she actually doesn’t know what a crime she’s committing right now by enabling them. “Polyamorous courting is a valuable skill to have under your belt!”

“Oh there’s other things I have under my belt,” Jaemin says.

Renjun’s gaze inadvertently slides to the mentioned belt, which is black leather, fitting slimly around Jaemin’s waist with a silver buckle and chain. Faster than light he wrenches his gaze away, but he knows he noticed.

Fuck.

The class lets out a low _ooh_ . It takes him a moment to realize it’s because he has just raised both his wings to their full height, the way that he does when his emotions get the better of him. He lets out a small _eep_ and closes his wings around himself, trying to hide, but Jaemin’s too close and so he accidentally encloses him too. Panicked, Renjun tries to disengage, but Jaemin reaches up and gently takes the edges of his wings to wrap them around the two of them. Actually, the three of them. When did Jeno get here? Renjun has a boy on each wing. Oh lord.

“Angel,” Jaemin says happily.

“Yes,” Jeno agrees. “Your feathers are really soft. How come we never get hugs like this? Renjun hugs? Renjun hugs . . . _rugs_. How come we never get rugs?”

It’s like the two of them have forgotten the roleplay they’re supposed to be doing and are just fawning over how pretty Renjun is.

And just like that, something inside of him breaks. This isn’t right. This isn’t fair.

It’s not fair that everyone here, everyone in this class, everyone except Renjun gets to have their romantic happily ever after—while _he’s_ the son of the god of love and _he’s_ the one who helped get Jeno and Jaemin together in the first place, not knowing how much it would hurt him later on. Shame sweeps over him in a storm. He should be happy that they’re happy. He should just be happy.

But he doesn’t really remember how to do that anymore.

He pulls away with a frustrated noise, fighting a sudden onslaught of tears. “I want to stop,” he manages to say.

Everyone’s startled. Jaemin and Jeno go quiet.

“Okay. We’ll stop. We’re sorry.”

Renjun shakes his head at Jaemin’s words. He needs to make them understand. Once and for all. Ryujin was right; Yuna was right; they were _right_ when they said he deserved better than this. He’s done treating himself like this, and he’s done pining, and he’s done preaching love advice on his Mirrorcast show—advice that he himself has never once followed. 

“I need you two to stop. Permanently. Stop what you’re doing with me, stop leading me on, stop pulling shit like this that only ends up with me getting hurt.” He raises his voice when he sees Jeno open his mouth in confusion. “Okay, I know I said I didn’t mind all your shenanigans but you know what? I lied to you. I lied. I can’t stand it when you act like this—when you distract me, when you cozy up to me, when you do things like this goddamn demonstration—you’ve known all along, haven’t you. Or _haven’t_ you? Just—look, it’s fine if you don’t see me the same way I see you, it’s fucking fine if you’re not interested in me the way I am in you, but, at the very least, aren’t you supposed to be my friends? Can’t you at least afford to be good friends to me? Instead of—instead of _this_?”

His voice breaks and he subsides, seething, blazing, breathing hard. 

Everyone stares at him.

“Oh, Renjun.”

He can’t even fathom why Jeno of all people sounds hurt right now. After all, _he’s_ the crying one here. He swipes the unbidden tears away angrily.

Jaemin’s gaze traces the motion. “You said they’d be heart shaped sequins,” he murmurs.

And Renjun’s had enough. Holding back a sob, he pushes past them, jostling their shoulders as he makes for the door. He ignores their cries calling him to come back, and just flees down the hall as fast as he can, smearing away the tears.

  
  


He doesn’t stop until he’s in the middle of the archery field, where he promptly collapses onto the ground, his wings overworked and fatigued.

The air smells like winter, like flowers. He takes a deep breath, willing his racing heart to calm down, and reclines backward until he’s flat against the ground, wings pinned and fists shaking.

In his head, he counts to three hundred. 

Then, out loud, he counts to three hundred once more, and once he’s done he switches to Greek and does it again. By the time it’s over, he’s feeling a little calmer.

With a soft sigh he unclenches his fists.

Out of nowhere, a missile shoots out of the sky and lands on the grass next to his head. Startled, he sits up and scrambles away, then relaxes as he realizes it’s just a paper airplane.

There’s no one around. Curiously, he picks up the airplane. It’s the size of his hand. It was folded quite clumsily. He purses his lips and begins to unfold it. Maybe he can fix it better.

He smooths the crinkled sheet of paper out on the ground, then pauses as he notices that there’s writing on the note. In fact, his own name is written there, several times. He squints down at it, and—oh.

It’s one of the notes that Jeno and Jaemin pass to each other during class. Renjun could recognize it anywhere. There’s Jeno’s black gel pen, neat and contained, contrasting Jaemin’s curly blue Sharpie. Ugh, only a heathen writes notes in Sharpie; Jaemin really is a villain.

_Renjun’s cute when he’s angry - Jaem_

_But I don’t like making him angry :( He’s cuter when he’s happy - Jenjen_

_Do you think he’s onto us..?? >_< \- Jaem _

_Maybe? He’s been acting funny lately i think he might know. Oh lord what if he knows? - Jenjen_

_I hope he knows, i’d be furious if he didn’t by now. Also unrelated but ugh i love his hair it looks good from this angel - Jaem_

_It’s spelled angle* not angel - Jenjen_

_No I said what I said - Jaem_

_K well what if I asked him to sit with us at dinner today? We can ask if there’s a reason why he’s been acting kinda mad at us lately…? - Jenjen_

_Why would he want to have dinner with us if he’s mad at us??? His face is so pretty did he do something new with his hair today it looks fluffier than usual ahh <3__<3 - Jaem _

Renjun lowers the note. His arm falls to his side, and he stares blankly up at the wide sky above. 

“Renjun!” someone calls. Two pairs of voices, actually. “ _Renjun_!”

He stays there on the ground. The sound of footsteps on grass gets louder. After a moment, Jeno and Jaemin poke their heads into his line of sight, the two of them out of breath and pink-cheeked from the cold.

“Hi,” pants Jeno.

“Hi,” Renjun returns, his voice sounding faraway even to himself.

“We’re sorry,” blurts Jaemin. “We didn’t mean to make you so angry. We just meant to tease you a little, that’s all—we didn’t know it’d bother you so much.”

“And we have something else to tell you, too,” Jeno adds. “Ahh, you look like you’re shivering. Here, get up. You must be freezing.”

Renjun gingerly accepts his outstretched hand, then stands still as Jeno takes his red jacket off and reaches to tuck it around Renjun’s shoulders. It’s so warm. 

Jaemin’s eyes watching him are warm, and Jeno’s furrowed brow is warm, and Renjun wants to be warm with them forever after.

“Thanks,” he mumbles, pulling the jacket further around himself. It’s too big. It’s nearly swallowing him, wings and all.

Jeno’s gaze flickers down to the sticky note lying open the ground. His eyes widen. “Wait a spell. Did—wait, did Jaemin’s location charm actually work for once?”

Jaemin follows his gaze and emits a gasp, demeanor changing. “It _did_! I didn’t think—wow. It really worked. The plane found him! It flew to him!”

“I read what you wrote,” Renjun interrupts.

Their suddenly serious combined gazes are too much. After a long moment, Renjun hides his face in his hands, or, rather, the floppy sleeve paws of Jeno’s jacket, and takes a deep breath that shudders his whole body. His voice is muffled.

“I’m sorry for blowing up at you in the classroom.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” begins Jeno.

“I like you,” interrupts Renjun.

“I like you too, you know.”

“No, I _like_ like you,” says Renjun.

“Like how?” Jeno says.

 _I like you so much I think I love you,_ Renjun thinks. But he can’t say it. He can’t say it. He feels so small, like a fool, standing here in front of the two most beautiful boys in the school. He can’t even meet their eyes. He’s so ashamed.

A pair of warm hands encloses his wrists, parting them to expose Renjun’s face. It’s Jaemin. He clears his throat.

“Do you remember that night when all three of us were getting ready for Legacy Day?” he asks. 

Renjun nods shakily.

“You were the one who encouraged us to follow our true hearts’ desires. Without your encouragement, Jeno and I would never have had the courage to rebel. I would poison Jeno and then he’d go get married to Chenle Charming or Chaeryeong Charming or whoever ends up becoming his fairy tale partner, and that would be the end.”

Renjun remembers that day. It was evening before Legacy Day, and he was in Jeno and Jaemin’s dorm room, all of them planning what they were going to wear. Jaemin and Jeno were nervous, painfully nervous. Renjun sat them down and told them, very firmly, that their choices weren’t as limited as they thought they were. He hadn’t expected them to _rebel_ —he’d thought it was clear he was telling them they could just elope and move to the fairy kingdom or someplace equally accepting—but instead, they went bigger than that and decided to turn the page for all of Ever After High, for the rest of time.

“Do you get it, Renjun?” Jaemin says urgently. “Jeno and I are credited as the first rebels, but really, it was you. You were the one who inspired us.”

There’s a long stretch of silence.

“Come again?” Renjun says.

Jeno groans. “Wasn’t it obvious that the whole reason why Jaemin and I went off-book and flipped the whole motherfucking script was because it meant that we could be together? _All_ of us? All three of us. From the beginning, that was our goal. We’ve been working our crowns off in Advanced Wooing to try to get you to like us! We overstepped with the demonstration thing, and we wanted to apologize for that, but we’re _not_ going to apologize for our feelings. Ugh Ren I thought you were smarter than this.”

“Maybe he’s a hands-on learner,” Jaemin offers from a pace away.

“...Maybe,” Jeno agrees, his eyes dropping to Renjun’s lips.

And then he dips forward and kisses him.

The world fuzzes out. Renjun’s eyes shut of their own accord. All he can feel is Jeno’s mouth on his—he tastes of apples, and of warmth, and it’s _Jeno_. It’s amazing. 

Renjun’s father had always made a big deal about the magic of first kisses, and Renjun always just thought he was up in his same old sappy nonsense.

But now, he understands.

Too soon, Jeno breaks the kiss. “Was that okay?” he asks, almost a whisper, looking for approval.

Renjun glimpses Jaemin over Jeno’s shoulder, standing there and looking very smiley.

“Jeno why did you do that,” Renjun croaks.

Jeno sputters. 

“Oh, for Grimm’s _sake_ , let me try,” Jaemin says, gently pushing him out of the way. “Hey, Jun, can I kiss you?”

Someone says yes. Renjun doesn’t even realize it’s him who said it before Jaemin’s leaning in, his warm mouth replacing where Jeno’s had just been. There’s less restraint now; it’s firmer, and there’s tongue, and it feels . . . good. Just as good as Jeno’s. Oh.

Oh.

Suddenly there’s a large crashing noise in the background, and Renjun and Jaemin jolt apart to see that a nearby bush has been engulfed in flames. Renjun sputters.

“Oh no,” Jeno admonishes. “Jaemin!”

“I didn’t mean to! I’m sorry!”

Renjun immediately flies off to get the fire hextinguisher, and when he’s back after putting the fire out, Jeno is still chastising a pouting Jaemin. It doesn’t look like it’s the first time something like this has happened. Renjun’s feet touch back down on the grass with a small _oomph_ and the two boys turn to look at him with big eyes.

“Jaem . . . was it you who set it on fire?” Renjun asks.

Jaemin wets his lips. “Yeah. Yeah? I think so. Um, Baba Yaga says that my magic sometimes gets out of control when, I, uh.” He tugs at his collar. “Nothing.”

“When what?” Renjun says.

“Go on, Jaem,” says Jeno. “Tell him when.”

“Stop it. You _know_ what it is. Magic—it, you know. It follows emotion that’s all.”

And then it dawns on Renjun.

“ _Oh_ ,” he says.

Jaemin quickly looks at him, hope in his eyes. “Oh?”

An incredulous sort of giggle bubbles out of Renjun. Jeno takes him by the shoulders urgently. “Tell us Renjun. Tell us what you’re thinking.”

Renjun is smiling too hard to speak, so he just reaches up, grabs Jeno by the necktie, and tugs him down to bring their mouths together again. 

Jeno lets out a cute noise of surprise. Determined to actually kiss him back, Renjun shuts his eyes and adds tongue, and he hopes he’s doing it well, but he gets the feeling that Jeno will like it even if he’s not doing it well.

 _And that’s true love,_ he decides.

By the time he pulls back, Jeno looks dazed, and Jaemin looks supremely emotional. Renjun wants to laugh. Or maybe cry. His wings are fluttering, ever so slightly, in delight, and with a sob he surges past Jeno to slam against Jaemin in a feathery hug. “I love you. I love you,” he says, face buried in Jaemin’s shoulder. “I love you. Both of you.”

Jaemin squeezes him back. “Took you long enough,” he says fondly.

They stay there for a moment, and then the two of them stagger a bit from the weight of an enthusiastic Jeno joining their hug. “See, I told you he’s cuter when he’s happy!” says Jeno, nuzzling into Renjun’s shoulder. He’s sandwiched between them. Three parts. The final puzzle piece. Renjun wants to cry.

“Then let’s make him happy all the time. Is that okay, Ren? Do you think it’d be okay if we did that?”

“That’d be amazing,” Renjun says, and oh, lord, is he actually crying? He’s crying. But it’s not tears on his cheeks. It’s . . . sequins?

He pulls back and swipes at his cheeks, staring down at them to see heart-shaped sequins littering his palm. Right. _Right_. “Happy tears. They’re the ones that come out as glitter,” he says, in wonder. “I can’t believe I forgot about that.”

Jaemin cheers and high-fives his hand, the sequins spraying everywhere. Jeno presses a kiss to the back of his head and hugs them harder. And Renjun lets himself be held, lets them hold him, lets the warmth and the glitter and the happily ever after sink into him, deep and true.

All this time. All this pining. All for nothing.

From now on, every day will be his happily ever after.

He can feel it.

♡♡♡

" _Hi RenD! I hope you're having a lovely day today."_

"Hello there," responds Renjun, once he's done putting down his water bottle so he can answer the caller. "What's up?" Today's Mirrorcast theme was a freebie day, an all-around time for anyone to ask for any type of advice they wanted. Also, this time around, Renjun got a lot of comments and posts asking to allow callers to remove their anonymity so that they could reveal their names if they so wished. Renjun was hesitant about the idea, but in the poll he'd put up, the majority of his viewers had voted yes.

" _I'm the, er, confused lesbian who called a few weeks ago,"_ says the caller cheerfully. " _I'm Doyeon Locks. I wanted to thank you for the spellbinding advice you gave me back then! It helped me get together with my now-girlfriend._ " Doyeon giggles. " _We're very happy together._ "

"That's great, Doyeon," says Renjun. He's heard about her; she's the daughter of Goldie Locks. He had actually guessed that she had been that one confused lesbian caller based on her word choice back then. No one used the term "just right" as much as Doyeon did. "I'm glad I was able to help you out there."

" _Yoojung and I— that's my girlfriend, she's sitting right next to me right now—we wanted to ask you a bit of a personal question. Is it true that you started going out with Jeno White and Jaemin Queen?"_

Feeling a soft smile grow on his face, Renjun casts a glance over his shoulder through the window of the studio, where he can see Jeno and Jaemin, who are lounging on the sofa and listening in. When they see him looking, they both perk up and wave at him in unison. They're so cute.

"You know, Doyeon," says Renjun, turning back to the mic. "I typically don't answer questions about my personal life but—well, this time, I suppose I'll make an exception. What kind of deity of love would I be if I wasn't open and proud about my relationship?"

" _So it's true?_ " Doyeon hounds. " _You're dating each other?"_

"We are."

There's an earsplitting squeal from the phone, and then a booming applause of cheering, clapping, and whistling, and Renjun jerks in surprise. Wait. He fumbles for the mic again. "Doyeon, are you—you wouldn't happen to be—"

" _I'm broadcasting this to the whole school!"_ she exclaims happily. " _We all gathered in the Charmitorium to hear the news. They elected me to be the one to ask you the fateful question. This is amazing Renjun! We're all so happy for you!"_

Dumbfounded, Renjun looks over at where one of the gnomes monitoring the radio is holding up a Mirrorscreen. In it, he can see a view of the Charmitorium in question, which—oh, wow. It's absolutely packed. Did _all_ of Ever After High gather to congratulate him on his relationship? He didn't know he was so popular. Or maybe his pining had just been that obvious, all these years.

" _Congratulations, Renjun!"_ shouts the crowd with enthusiasm. " _Finally! OT3! We knew you could do it!"_

He laughs sheepishly into the mic. "Uh . . . wow, everyone. This is unhexpected. Thank you very much for your, uh, support?"

" _Of course_ ," gushes Doyeon, at the forefront of the Charmitorium broadcast. She blows him a kiss, her blonde curls bouncing, and then the mod gnome lowers the Mirrorpad out of view, leaving Renjun to lean back into his chair in awe and maybe a little bit of gratitude. All these people had been rooting for him, all this time. He wasn't as slick as he'd thought he'd been, huh?

Once he left the studio to join up with Jeno and Jaemin, both of whom are beaming, he demands, "Did you two know about this?"

"I had no idea," Jaemin says cheerfully. "Jen didn't either. But that was awesome. I loved that! Come on, let's all go down to the Charmitorium and join the party."

They all head off. Jeno slips his hand into Renjun's, and Renjun reaches forward to link his fingers with Jaemin's. He will never get used to the feeling of having Jeno and Jaemin on either side of him, holding his hands. He doesn't want to get used to it. The daily thrill is what he lives for.

"Ever After High is kind of hextra, isn't it?" Jeno says.

"Definitely," says Renjun. "I kinda like it, though."

"I kinda like it too." Jeno squeezes his hand. "And you. I like you, too."

He reminds Renjun this just about every day, at least four times a day. It's unbearably adorable. Renjun's pretty sure he does it just because it makes Renjun smile every single time.

"Love you too. Both of you," he replies.

In the corner of his eye, he sees a poof of lavender glitter from atop the rafter of the hallway, and he sees it's Ryujin, sprawled out there and swinging her legs as she peers down at him with a cheshire grin. He gives her a subtle wink and lifts his hands, conjoined with Jeno and Jaemin, and her grin widens suggestively. She and Renjun have been getting along better, these days. They're okay. It's okay.

He looks away, knowing that she's going to disappear and probably teleport over to the Charmitorium where Yuna will likely be snatching all the heart-shaped cookies and stashing them in her purse. He lets out a happy sigh, swinging Jeno and Jaemin's hands as he walks, his wings fluttering ever so slightly that it's almost like he's floating.

Ever After High is a place of destiny. And Renjun thinks he's found his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LOOK AWAY FROM THE RUSHED ENDING, JUST LOOK AWAY I BEG U

**Author's Note:**

> For anyone who's interested: Mark is Hopper Croakington II and Hyuck is Briar Beauty. (I thought those characters fit their irl dynamic really well sdkfjds Mark getting constantly tongue-tied around Hyuck and Hyuck being a rebellious daredevil with great makeup? Y e s.) Then there's Chenle and Chaeryeong, who are Dexter and Darling Charming respectively. Yes you see that CH alike alliteration that I put there? Huehehueh!
> 
> Jisu from itzy is Bunny Blanc, hopelessly in love with her best friend, Yeji Wonderland. Yuna is Lizzie Hearts and Ryujin is Kitty Cheshire because I feel like Lizzie and Kitty are really good friends in canon and i just- Yuna shouting OFF WITH YOUR HEAD while Ryujin shows her cat whiskers smile just seemed like the right thing to write pspspsp Ryujin catgirl. 
> 
> All of the itzy characters have their roots in Wonderland!! I just thought that was a neat thing to point out. Not mentioned in this fic are Sungchan and Jisung, who are distant cousins, Sparrow Hood and Cerise Hood respectively. Just imagine it; it's like, zany and loud and bold Sungchan, and then quiet reserved athletic Jisung??? It fits so well. Also, Shotaro happens to be Rosabella Beauty, or Hyuck's cousin. He's Renjun's roommate even though it didn't come up in this fic. Yukhei is Faybelle Thorne, fairytale villain to Hyuck Beauty, who kind of maybe has a crush on both him and Mark. Polyamory in there? Possible spinoff? maybe...? who knows?
> 
> The title of this fic is Greek and roughly translates to "everything is perfect in threes." I thought it fit this fic nicely because a) Renjun is descended from the Greek god of love, b) norenmin is ot3, c) the initials of the title come together to say OTP and norenmin is my otp, and finally d) it just adds a little fairy tale FLAIR to the story if u kno what i mean
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed my super niche nct x ever after high crossover! @ prompter, I am sorry if you aren't familiar with eah. really, i apologize. i did include that wlw ship you asked for tho!!
> 
> ~ yerin 120620
> 
> [twt](https://twitter.com/_regret_me_not) | [cc](https://curiouscat.me/_regret_me_not)


End file.
